


The Crops Aren’t Growing, But My Love For You Is

by voidfruit



Series: Start Anew (Cheat Police) [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Fluff, M/M, Making Up, Reconcilation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidfruit/pseuds/voidfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sips and Sjin reconcile after a past argument and have a late-night talk over chicken sandwiches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weeping Willow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When it's cold at night and you have no one to hold on to, then where will you be?"

"Ow. Sjin, you’re- you’re crushing me."  
The words rang out like bullets on the warm summer night.  
Xephos struggled a bit in his grasp. “Sjin.”  
“Wh-what?” Sjin moaned in confusion, waking up slightly.  
It was that time of night again. Halfway through the night, as was now the usual on Sjin’s Farm, Xephos would awake suddenly, and find Sjin breathing down his neck. What was it with this guy?  
He clamped on like a piranha’s jaw. One arm went over Xephos’ shoulder, the other underneath his opposite arm. It would have been fine, except for the fact that Sjin latched on as if he was a cat taking down a large prey and that his hands… well, wandered below the equator far too many times. One of his legs had to always be positioned against… in between Xephos’ legs, much to his uncomfortableness and much to Sjin’s satisfaction.  
“Can you- can you?” He let the question go halfway.  
“What? What’s wrong?” A drowsy Sjin half-muttered back, rubbing his forehead into the crook of Xephos’ neck. Xephos cringed as he did so, his tosses nullified by the tight grip.  
Xephos squirmed in Sjin’s grasp. “Can you let go of me, please?”  
“What?”  
He finally broke away and shot up in bed, his arms now free to wave in contempt. “You’re squeezing me half to death here, man! Look at you!”  
Sjin leapt away under the linen sheets at the spaceman’s sudden anger.  
A half-hearted apology made its way forth. “Sorry,” he muttered, burying his head in the covers and retracting his arms.  
“I mean, it would be okay if, but- we’re not- it’s not- urgh!  
“…” Silence from Sjin.  
“I just don’t understand why the hell you have to be on me all the time! It’s like some sort of complex with you, Jesus! I can’t get any goddamn sleep, I’m sorry! Just, just-“  
With Xephos coming to a loss for words, the room’s noise level drained and the mood slowly started to simmer down. After a few seconds, it was like the exchange hadn’t happened at all, and with Sjin’s current atmosphere, Xephos halfly wished it hadn’t.  
Silence was dominant.  
Xephos sighed in exasperation. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, okay? Really. But, I’ve just-“

“It… makes me feel safe. Like I’m okay.” The small, broken voice came out of nowhere. It was nothing like the cheery, boisterous farmer Xephos had experienced. It was scared, and hurt. It was confused. It was rejected.

“I’m sorry, man, but I-“  
He stopped mid-sentence as Sjin turned away, obviously not wanting to continue the conversation further. He grabbed a spare light blue pillow as he did so, wrapping it in his arms as he would Xephos.  
The loss for words had come. Silence was dominant again in the room, with nothing to hear except the rustling of the mahogany trees outside.  
Xephos, knowing that the conversation was indubitably over, turned to the side as well, hoping for just some peace and quiet and for Sjin’s legs and hands to stay in appropriate positions.  
The night was quiet yet again.  
Silence was dominant.  
But, there was always noise.  
The noise of someone weeping into a pillow.  
Trying to quiet their emotions by letting them out.  
Shaking whispers and the turning of covers.  
“God, it’ll never be the same. Sipsy…”  
That is, if Xephos’ hearing was accurate.

Which it was.  
Which it always was.


	2. That Explains It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh..."

It had been a week since the small confrontation with Sjin. Afterwards, he seemed to think nothing of it. The next morning, he had seemed his bright and cheerful self, yet again. When Xephos brought up the conversation, he scoffed and waved his hand.  
“Nah, I’m sorry man. Let’s uh, get to cleaning this sludge out, huh?”  
They never brought it up again.  
Sjin had separated the beds shortly thereafter, though…

So now Xephos was with Sips and Turps again in the disgusting bog they called a home. He had been courteous about the dirt to Sips’ face, but breathing the smell, day in and day out? His nostrils were not cut out for that sort of torture.  
Their building bore many similarities to a large pile of manure. It smelled like one, it looked like one, it was horrible.  
What it really needed was an architect’s touch.  
And the infertile land? It was a pain growing crops on the soil. The liquid essence must have been helping, bless it, imbuing the land around their small farm with some magical properties of some sort. But the dirt? Xephos just didn’t see how’d they sell it. It would have to go through a lot of refinery before the finished product came forth.  
And Turps and Sips… they were at least nice? Maybe? The entirety of the workload was on Xephos, and with this rate of progress, he didn’t see how it would be done.  
And the worst part? They hadn’t even gotten their beds into the factory yet. They were stuck, sleeping on a large frame of wool, together, in the muck.  
At least he wasn’t clamped on tight to like at the farm…  
But he was smack in between two clamps.  
“Okay, g’night!” Turps called out.  
“G’night mom, g’night dad!” Sips joked.  
Xephos sighed and responded, “Sips, your mum and dad aren’t here.”  
“Are you my mom then?”  
Turps interjected, “Nah, but I-“  
“Shut up, Turps!”  
“Oh, make me then!”  
“Okay, both of you, quiet down!” Xephos called. They shut up and turned over, acting sassily then snickering about it to each other.  
The goal of the company should have been to piss of Xephos, they would have achieved their goal a lot more faster then.  
Turps fell asleep like a rock, swiftly and heavily. Xephos didn’t know how he managed.  
Sips was another story, however. He tossed and turned. He kept putting his hands behind his back and then tossing over, momentarily giving up and putting his head in his hands.  
This wasn’t any better than Sjin’s Farm was, really. Either way, Xephos was doomed to suffer sleep.  
Sips had his back to Xephos, quieting down for a bit. He sighed long with finality and then cleared his throat.  
Xephos was starting to doze off then. If Sips and Turps could, he could…  
But of course, he could not.  
Sips cleared his throat again.  
And again.  
And halfway through again, until Xephos, with a restrained voice driven halfway mad from lack of sleep replied, “Sips, you okay?”  
“Huh? Yeah, yeah fine, fine… I can’t get to sleep is all.”  
“That makes the both of us,” Xephos sighed. He had given into the battle. He wasn’t going to sleep anyways.  
Sips anxiously sighed and tossed and turned a number of times over. Groaning in frustration, he turned his back to Xephos again and face planted on the pillow.  
But then, an odd thing happened. Sips straightened, as if realizing something. He lowered his voice in a peculiar fashion for his regular personality. Almost… sheepish. Being careful with his wording, something that Xephos doubted Sips had ever done in his lifetime.  
“Hey, um, Xephos?” He inquired politely.  
“Yeah, Sips?” Xephos tried not to notice Sips’ sudden carefulness.  
“Can uh, you schooch a little closer to me?”  
Xephos obliged.  
“Yeah, um, closer.”  
Again.  
“Closer.”  
“A bit closer.”  
Any closer and they would have been plastered against each other. Xephos’s head was right against Sips’, and he could smell nothing other than what Sips smelled of: Eau de Dirt, of course.  
“Um, okay, that’s good, thanks.”  
“Sure… fine. Goodnight, Sips.”  
“Goodnight Sj-uh.” Xephos could feel his shoulders straighten in anxiety. “Xephos. Goodnight, Xephos.”  
Xephos rested his head uncomfortably, inching away from Sips slightly so that he wouldn’t use him as a pillow. Now, he could finally sleep now, right?  
Wrong.  
Sips’ head turned a bit to barely face Xephos. “Um. Hey Xeph,” he addressed.  
“What?” Xephos shortly asked.  
“Could you, um? Maybe…”  
“What, Sips?” He asked exasperatedly.  
“Well, that before was great. Could you like, wrap your arms and legs around me now? Maybe, like-“  
“What?!” Xephos shot up in bed. “What the hell you do think I am,” he demanded alertedly, “some sort of-“

 

And then it hit him.

 

If Xephos wrapped his arms and legs around Sips… he’d be doing exactly what Sjin was doing to him.  
He would be a replacement, a sort of, dummy analogy for Sjin.  
Because Sjin wasn’t there.  
And Sjin, Sjin was clutching that pillow tight. He was holding it in a loving embrace.  
As if, if he let go of it, it would run away and desert him.  
Sips was that pillow. Sjin was this tight embrace Sips was desperate to find.  
Xephos racked his mind, bringing up a fuzzy image of a double bed at SipsCo…  
But surely they weren’t- they didn’t- he had thought nothing of it at the time.  
But the evidence was there. As well as a nervous Sips whose careful wording hadn’t mattered in the grand scheme of things.

 

“No, no! It’s just… I can’t. I can’t sleep. Without, like, someone… someone. Someone clinging into me, I-“  
Xephos wrapped his arms around him, as Sjin had done to him.  
“It’s okay, friend.”  
One arm went over his shoulder, the other underneath his opposite arm.  
Sips warily muttered to himself for a bit, but soon settled into the familiar grasp.  
“Um, tighter.”  
“‘Kay.”  
“Thanks, silk shirt.”  
“No problem.”  
He relaxed easily and drifted off.  
It wasn’t too bad, having to play counselor to the man.  
But if you think Xephos was going to do anything with his hands and legs, you were dead wrong.


	3. Barren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nothing's working."

“Aw, Jesus Christ!” Sips spat across the compound.

“What?” Xephos asked, lifting his head from crafting to see Sips hunched over yet another batch of failed crops.

“Shit, these fucking carrots aren’t growing! What the hell’s wrong with them?!” Sips demanded, tossing a batch of the vegetables to his side, throwing down his spade in anger.

“Okay, well, calm down, and we’ll fix this,” Xephos stated in a matter-of-fact voice. Sips had been getting more and more irritable than Xephos remembered from their times at the Jaffa Factory. He suspected it had something to do with the original SipsCo compound being wrecked, plus the words he had with Sjin…

“God, I’m really hungry, okay?” Sips groaned. “Just don’t blame me when we have no food.”

Food was definitely an issue in the biome. Food, clean water, a steady supply of trees… compared to Sjin’s Farm, this place was an absolute wasteland. Wait… Sjin’s Farm? That gave Xephos an idea.

“Hey Sips,” he started, taking his attention away from the machine bits on the workbench momentarily. “How would you like some food?”

Sips blinked. “Were you just even listening to me? Yeah, yeah. I could do with some food, sure. What the hell, Xephos?” he grumbled.

“I know where there’s food, and clean water unlike the shitty stuff we have here, and chocolate milk…” Xephos hung onto the last two words.

“At Honeydew? Er, Hole Diggers? Whatever the hell you girl guides are calling it now? I don’t need their sympathy, it’s-“

“Sjin’s Farm.”

Sips paused. “Oh,” was the only response. “Oh.”

“We could pop over there for a bit and maybe ask Sjin for some food… if you want, that is.”

“Um… sure. Okay, great. Okay, that’s our plan. But…”

“What?”

“You sure he won’t mind? I mean, I did… sort of…” Xephos watched as the grey man’s eyes lost focus for a moment, considering memories of their confrontation. His emotionless expression was dropped for a few seconds, leaving his thoughts vulnerable and unprotected. Xephos could see just how jolted he was to reconcile with Sjin.

“Fire him?” Xephos scoffed. “I doubt he would hold a grudge against anyone except Rythian,” he assured. “He even forgave Lalna for the Tekkit War. And with you? After all those years? He’ll barely notice your presence.”

Shit. Those were the wrong words. “He won’t?” Sips asked half-heartedly. “You know everyone on this server better than I do, so-“

“Uh, no. That’s not what I meant, I-“ Xephos put a hand to his forehead. “He’ll be glad to help,” he said with finality.

“Yeah. Okay, fine. Let’s get going then,” Sips announced. “The sun’s not going to wait around for our lazy asses.”


	4. Missed You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The sight of him makes everything seem at peace."

The rippling orange sun hung low in the sky as the two men approached the farm.

“Hey Sjin!” Xephos called out to the bearded man.

“Xeph! Hey, I-“ his eyes widened in surprise. Sips. It was Sips. Xephos had gone along and brought Sips with him. Sips. “-I… uh. I cleaned up the sludge tank…” his words trailed off.

Jesus, it was really him. It was him! But shit, what could he be here for? Sjin was already fired, so there was no lower level to this hell. He hadn’t seen him since… he left… so it couldn’t be positive. What if he was rehiring him? Shit. What if, though? What if he came back, only to say- no. No, that wouldn’t happen, and Sjin knew it. At least not in front of Xephos…

“Hey,” Xephos greeted again. “You doing okay?”

Sjin’s voice was an octave higher than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, fine, fine.”

“You sure? I-“

“Sjin.” The grey man stood a length away from his former partner. “Hi… um.”

Sjin tried his best not to start sobbing all over the place. Instead, his eyes watered slightly. “S-Sips. Hi,” he spoke timidly.

“How are you doing here? I mean, uh…”

“I’m doing good. Are you… getting along well?”

“Yeah. Yeah, not too badly,” Sips chuckled. “Your farm’s uh, obviously doing good. I like uh, the rainbow trees.”

Sjin smiled. “Thanks.”

Xephos interjected, “We were just wondering if you could lend us some food, the crops at the Dirt Facility aren’t growing too well… it’s been sort of rough, and I don’t want to trouble you, but-“

“Oh my god, no! Get a sickle from the storage barn. Go, go! All the crops are grown here, we have plenty of chilies, come on!” Xephos shrugged and got the sickle.

Sips smiled, seeing Sjin’s enthusiastic face. “Thanks,” he said, nudging Sjin slightly at the waist.

“No problem! Are you okay? Xephos, you have to feed Sips. He needs to eat, he’s a working man, come on!” He patted Sips’s sides and complained, “Oh my god, you’ve gotten so skinny. Xephos! Come inside, I’ll make you something.”

“Nah, I’m okay…” Sips brushed him off.

Sjin smirked. “I’m making you at least a sandwich or something!”

“You never fed yourself when we were at SipsCo!”

“That’s different,” Sjin called, closing the door halfway behind him.

Xephos came back. “You needed a sickle, Sjin?”

“Actually no, now it’s fine. If you could, though, harvest and replant some of the chilies?” Sjin called from inside. The open windows made it easy to hear him.

Xephos sighed. “Fine,” he obliged.

“Aw, shiiiit. It’s getting dark,” Sips cursed. “Dammit.”

“Maybe you could stay here for the night?” Xephos offered.

Sips’ eyes darted to the farmhouse, where Sjin was located, and back silently. He rubbed his neck. “Uh, if I could, that’d be great. Uh…”

“Sure, we can set you up in the loft area, if you want,” Sjin beamed, shouting out the window.. A smile broke away from him as his eyes crinkled with contained happiness.

Sips’ grey cheeks took an almost rosy form. “Yeah. I’d like that, Sjin. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it!” he waved his hand in a nervous fashion. “Your sandwich’ll be done in a bit, Sipsy!”

“Aw, Sjiiin. I don’t need-“

“Yes, yes you do. Okay? Or at least take it with you once you go back tomorrow. Xeph, put some chilies in a barrel. You can take that, as well.”

Sips raised his eyebrow and smiled. What a dumb babby.

A rustling sound awoke Sjin that night. He turned over in bed, waking up slightly. Xephos was still positioned across the room from him, snoring away as if there was no tomorrow. Well, in fact, it was tomorrow. It had to be at least two in the morning.

The rustling noise from downstairs continued. Sjin’s ears tilted in curiosity. “Mmm,” he droned. No one wants to get out of a warm bed, especially when the sun wasn’t even up yet.

When the rustling begot creaking of floorboards and clinking of glasses, Sjin finally sat up in bed. He glanced over at the large pillow opposite him.

Jesus, wouldn’t he like to climb up that ladder and clamber into bed with Sips. To hop in, dive under the woolen covers and embrace him. It had been too long since Sjin was able to hold him, too long since he pressed his face against his neck and inhaled the man’s scent. Too long since he heard, “Aww, no! Your beard tickles,” and giggled at the false complaint. Too long since he wrapped his arms and legs around him, and told Sips that he loved him, that he felt safe with him…

His plan was to save him, to get him safe. The statue was a major plot twist. But he had abandoned everything to rescue Sips, utilized every trick in the book that Sips taught him in their Tekkit days. Bring up plots of land? Check. Bribe the Girl Guides? Double check. Blow all your money on a one-way ticket out of trouble? Check, check, and check.

So the plan changed. Molten Dirt, eh? They had a bit at SipsCo. A one-time experiment gone wrong. So he would drop him in, and he would emerge from the heat, sputtering and coughing, confused and disoriented. Sjin would take him in his arms, sobbing something awful as Sips got his bearings back. He’d bring him up to speed, and then? They’d go off in search of a random adventure with conversation galore. Sjin’d pack up the farm and save it for his time off. They’d have a double bed again, and the skyscraper… with every fiber of his being, Sjin would get that skyscraper up again. And Sips would laugh and cry and be so thankful. And Sjin’d be thankful for Sips. And they’d go to bed together, pressed up against each other, indulging in the other’s warmth and love…

But plans were unruly. That never happened. Instead, he got a slap in the face and a pink slip. He saw Sips run off with Xephos, run to him as if he was a messiah. Clinging onto him, when he should have been clinging onto Sjin. But it wasn’t Xephos’ fault. Sjin couldn’t muster anger at Sips, so it wasn’t his fault either. If anything… if was Sjin’s fault. He had left him for the farm. He couldn’t get the words out to describe his emotions. No wonder Sips had left him…

The pillow was a half-assed analogy for Sips, yes, it was true. And Xephos… what a trooper. He had put up with Sjin grasping on tightly for a week before losing his famously long temper.

Sjin just couldn’t grasp the principle of separation. It was the basis of every relationship, trust. Without trust, you had nothing. If you were together, you were safe. You were okay. You had them, and they had you. Listening to their heartbeat. Dreaming of their scent. Pressing your head against their neck… it was natural. It felt almost… instinctual. It must have been in his DNA or something. Sjin couldn’t imagine a world without his and Sips’ double bed… but he didn’t have to imagine. That was this world.

So he sat up. And he kicked off the covers. He crept out of the room, careful not to wake Xephos.

He approached the bottom floor silently, the steps too modest to creak.

Sjin peeked from around the corner of stairs. He saw the fridge door open and the silhouette of a man… It was Sips. Raiding the fridge or something. Ah well.   
But should he go over to greet him? To say… what would he say? That he woke up, that he-

Sips turned around, half of the sandwich Sjin had made him earlier held in his mouth. In his right hand was a plate that, to the looks of it, wasn’t even being used.

A small noise of surprise from Sips broke the silence. He hastily took the sandwich out of his mouth and placed it on the plate.

“Uh. Hey.”

“Hey, Sips,” Sjin greeted. Sips obviously hadn’t planned on being seen. Sjin laid his hand on the countertop as he walked towards Sips. “I told you you would get hungry,” he said in a singsong voice.

Sips mock-laughed. “Ha ha, ha, so funny. Ya big babby,” he muttered affectionately. “Why ya gotta judge?”

“Hey, I’m not judging, Sips. Scoot over. I’m hungry too, you know.” Sjin leaned into the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread, some chili-spiced mustard, arugula and chicken slices. He produced a cutting board from a lower drawer and started making himself a sandwich. He sliced the loaf of bread open and started spreading the mustard on.

Sips shook his head as a smile tugged at his lips. He laid down on the couch and waited for Sjin to join him.

Sjin turned on the faucet to wash his hands, but no water came out.

“What the hell?” he asked inquisitively. Bending over and staring up into the pipe, he cursed and smacked it. Water flooded out, spraying all over the farmer.

“Aw, shit!” Sips cursed. Sjin was sopping wet. His struggle to get his head out of the sink had caused the water to pour off of his head and onto his clothes. A very disgruntled Sjin cringed, blinking hard and using the dish towel to dry his hair off.

Sips snickered, trying to hold his laughter in, but it was no use. He started laughing, and Sjin did as well.

“Shit,” Sjin finally managed in between laughs. “Let me go get changed.”

He walked up the steps hurriedly, as to not drip water everywhere and was soon out of sight. Sips got up and absorbed the mess with a few towels. “What a dumb babby,” he muttered to himself, “just as he always was, the dingus.” As a favor, and to have something to do while Sjin got changed, Sips finished making the sandwich for him. It probably wasn’t as delicious as it would have been if Sjin made it, but it was something. He carted it over to the coffee table sitting beside the couch, as Sjin walked down the steps.

He was wearing grey rubber boots… and gloves. With orange around his waist, wrists, ankles and neck… in a lightly-colored spacesuit. He’d combed his hair slightly, as well as his beard.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Sips nodded, pretending not to notice the difference. “Hey.”

“Oh, it was, uh. The only thing I had in my closet,” Sjin explained.

“Oh. I didn’t notice.”

Sjin sat down on the couch. Sips leaned on him and smiled. Mahogany. Sjin smelled of mahogany and earth, and nature and brisk, cold wind. As always.

“Eat your sandwich, you dummy,” Sjin nodded. “Hey, thanks for fixing mine for me.”

“No probs,” Sips shrugged, and grabbed his sandwich off of the plate. Sjin rustled his hair as he was bent over.

“Hey,” Sips sighed, headbutting Sjin back in the shoulder. Sjin giggled and pressed his face up against the side of Sips’. They smiled.

“So,” Sips said in-between bites of his sandwich, “How’s life?”

“Life’s good,” Sjin adjusted himself on the couch. “The crops are growing well and- oh my god, yesterday- you will not believe how many Yellow Meranti saplings you get from one mahogany tree. Holy crap.”

Sips watched Sjin ramble on about his farm, about his life. The way his eyes lit up at the mention of mahogany. The way he got so excited about progress in his crops. He watched his expressions and how they so frequently changed. His cheeks were as rosy as ever. His skin had become more tan over the weeks. His brunet hair resembled the hue of the mahogany outside. He’d let his hair go a bit longer, which Sips sort of liked. It reminded him of the Deep Space Nine days, when Sjin pranced around wearing nothing but a loincloth. Too bad he didn’t have that in his closet when he drenched himself with the tap. Sjin was just so… His mind was a labyrinth of ideas and innovations and dreams. So many dreams. His large, pointed ears stuck out slightly, and even twitched a bit when he got nervous. His neon blue eyes, with their almost-slitted pupils, while not glowing as Xephos’ and Strife’s were, seemed to reflect what light passed through as a cat’s would. Sips didn’t like cats much, but for Sjin, he’d make an exception.

“So… how’s SipsCo going?”

Sips pondered the question. How was he to respond to this? “Well. Not good, but well.”

“Really?” Sjin lengthened himself out on the couch, turning over in Sips’ lap. “Well, not good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Well. It’s not the s-“ Sips caught himself.

Sjin perked up. “What?” he asked. Telling by his trademark mischievous devil smile, the bearded man knew just what Sips was going to say. It’s not the same.

But of course it wasn’t. There were so many differences to SipsCo with Xephos and Turps to SipsCo with Sjin that, it wasn’t possible to count them all.

“The building, for one, is a piece of crap,” Sips confessed.

“Really?” Sjin bolted up. “Because I had some-“ He cut himself off. The room was silent for an excruciating few seconds.

“Some…?” Sips continued the thought.

Sjin said in a soft, tentative voice, “Some ideas… if that’s okay.”

“I want to hear these ideas,” Sips challenged.

“They’re not that good. I mean, what I’d really like to do- uh. What I think would be best for SipsCo would be to return to the old compound… and at least make an attempt to fix that up.” He eyed Sips carefully, waiting for a reaction.

Sips grinned. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Sjin’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that a coincidence, huh? Maybe…”

“Wow. Well Sjin, with ideas like these, holy shit. I could really use you on the team…”

“Really? A nancy boy like me?”

Sips lightly elbowed Sjin and put his head on him. “Yes, a nancy boy like you,” he muttered into his chest. He sat up again and looked Sjin dead in the eyes.

“What I’m asking is… what I’ve asked you a few times before, even.” Sips took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip. “Do you want to come back to SipsCo?”

Sjin grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” His eyes watered slightly as they wrapped each other in a tight embrace.

“You know where Guy is?”

“Nah. He’s like a familiar, almost. We can just call for him and he’ll be back.”

“What do you think he’s doing?”

“Having, uh, parties? With lady sheep, maybe?”

“Guy the player. Ho-lee shiiiitt…”

They soon found themselves lost in conversation, lost in thoughts and talk. Lost in each other’s minds and soon, in each other’s arms. A dozy Sips laid down on the couch, tucking up his feet. Sjin did the same, wrapping one arms over the man, another looped underneath his to meet the other. Sjin, putting his leg in between Sips’, sighed deeply and pressed his nose into the crook of Sips’ neck. Yep. It definitely was the same old Sips. Eau de Dirt.

They sighed in relief, thankful for the familiar feel of reassurance and comfort. The safety of each other.

“I missed you, Sipsy,” Sjin breathed softly as he dozed off into sleep.

“I missed you too, Sjin.”


	5. There Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And suddenly, you feel whole again."

“Hey, I’ve got some ale in the fridge, if you want.” Sjin’s drowsy voice cut through the comfortable silence of the night. He and Sips had been lying there, chatting away. It was probably 3 in the morning, hours since they had both found themselves down in the common kitchen area of the farmhouse.

  
Sips’ eyebrows lifted. “Really? Holy shit,” he muttered. “I didn’t know you could brew alcohol.”

“Xephos helped.”

“Hm,” Sips smirked. “Can recite the chemical makeup of cocaine and knows how to brew alcohol? Goddamn,” he remarked as he rose from the warm comfort of Sjin’s arms to the fridge, where, indeed, there was ale stocked.

“Suspicious,” Sjin laughed, on the topic of Xephos’ knowledge. He had turned onto his belly, leaning over the back of the couch to look at Sips. “Or maybe an inspiration,” he joked.

Sips made his way back to the sofa, handing Sjin a bottle of ale, another in his sturdy hand for himself. “Probably cheats,” Sips simpered, “as always with them.”

Sjin took a sip of the drink and sighed, looking out of the window into the night sky. “You remember, heh, the bomb?”

“Which one?” Sips jested.

"Aaah, Barry the Wormhole, you know what I’m talking about, Sipsy.”

“Of course I do,” Sips uncapped the bottle in his hands, “…er, what happened, with that, again?”

“Sips,” Sjin playfully prodded him.

“Okay, okay. Yeah. God, that thing tore up the world, didn’t it, even when Ridge shot it off into the distance.”

Sjin grinned, biting his lower lip momentarily. “It did destroy a lot, didn’t it… so much of the world. At our fingertips,” he trailed off…

“Sjin,” Sips chided in an almost parental tone. “That thing took the land, yeah. It took our land. Our base, remember,” he broke into a chuckle. “Jeeesus.”

“We got our OPing powers removed.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds, hands to their chins as they sat next to each other on the soft couch, Sips laying turned slightly facing Sjin’s torso.  
Sjin’s thoughts raced, meanwhile. He hadn’t caused something like that since the First Tekkit World’s demise with Lalna. All that destruction… tearing scars into the earth mesmerizingly. Knowing he was the one, that had the power to cause such a thing. A coy smile brought its way onto Sjin’s lips.

“Sips,” he prompted suddenly, “did they…”

Sips turned his attention, expression alert. “Hmm?”

“Did they forget to…” the coy smile grew into an impish grin. “… are we OPed?”

Sips’ eyebrows furrowed. It took him a second to respond. “Ahhhhhh, I- are we?!”

“Wait, if we’re opped, that means,” Sjin tried to calm the outburst of giggles building up in his throat from the ale, “That means that… we could…”

Sips’ eyes widened, meeting Sjin’s in the darkness. “We could do it all again,” he realized.

“Even better,” Sjin gripped Sips’s forearms in excitement, his words a barely contained whisper. “We could be immortals.” His blue eyes, now turning slitted in the light, gleamed with a madness only he could dream up.

“We could run off together, and…”

“…build a new home.”

“Rebuild our old one.”

The very thought was overwhelming, ridiculous! But could it work… could they really do it? Could they return to their dreams, forge new ones? Sips didn’t know. All he knew was that with Sjin, he felt like the entire world was theirs to have.

“How would we even get there, it’s miles… and Xephos would wake up, in the morning?”

“Fly,” Sips smiled. “Xephos can kiss our asses,”he retorted.

Sjin got into a fit of giggles, the alcohol kicking in to the both of them. “We could see SipsCo again… I wonder how it’s doing?”

“Let’s do it Sjin, come on! Let’s just skip out of here and run away. We did it plenty of times in space,” he remembered fondly.

“Jumping from station to station…” Sjin murmured in a daze.

“You placed a bomb in the engine of every one.”

Sjin’s eyes trailed up to Sips’ neck. “I always made sure your helmet was on right,” he reminisced, tugging at Sips’ neon blue collar. “And when we landed, there, not even here in this world…”

“We found Guy and Aloyisus…”

“It was cold as balls there.”

“Is that why we ended up in the same bed every night, eh?” Sips smiled looking up to meet Sjin’s gaze.

“Yeah. For warmth, of course, Sipsy. That and the fact that I very much enjoy sleeping with you,” he leaned in to whisper.

Sips felt his cheeks flush, lips parting slightly in intrigue.

“Are we going to go back?” Sjin asked, thin arms around Sips’ set torso.

“I’d like to,” Sips admitted, pausing. He remembered all the adventures they’d had together, from the nights in the hovel to the skyscraper standing tall. It was a dream he could never truly give up on. “Would… would you? I mean… we both have separate places now, and… I mean, if you don’t, it’s okay. I’m stupid for living on a dream, Sjin, but… goddamn, if I’m going to live on one, it should be this one,” he wistfully sounded out.

Sjin lifted his head from Sips’ shoulders, expression soft and eyes watering. “Of course. Of course, Sips. I’ve been wishing to go back there since… well, since I knew it got dragging into this world from the old one. I miss it. I miss you. But…” Sjin fiddled with a loose thread on the couch. “If we go back, what’ll we… I mean… you’ve done the dirt factory…”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Sjin’s brow furrowed. “But wasn’t that the dream? Your dream, to make the dirt, get it shipped out, get a crap ton of money and relax?” He paused, his tone more gentle. “You’re done all that now,” he murmured. “You’ve got it. You don’t need me for anything more.”

“That’s not my dream,” Sips sighed.

“What?”

“I mean, yeah! I want that,” Sips explained, “but it’s… when we were at SipsCo, it was different. It wasn’t like this. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“How was it supposed to go?”

“I wasn’t supposed to turn into a fucking statue, for one.”

Sjin could only smile as he remembered what happened. Sometimes you can only smile at scary memories. There was not going to be another fit of sobbing tonight.

“And we…” Sips continued. “We never made it, right?”

“Hmm?”

“We never produced the dirt, never got it shipped out for Christmas Day, nothing.”

“…yeah.”

“Well then,” Sips reasoned, “why are our fondest memories of that place?”

“What?”

“It’s not about the dirt, Sjin! Eh, yeah it is, but not… it was about us. It was about us, and sorta… I don’t know. The stuff we did,” Sips elbowed Sjin playfully, making him chuckle, “and the stuff we caused.” “Remember the wall?”

“‘I’ve bought the land all around here,’” Sips mocked.

“I remember I went over there and told them that their land was ‘NotCo’.”

“We built those faux offices…”

“Pretended to break up.”

Sips had a distasteful look. “I hated that,” he muttered, sliding closer to Sjin.

“Aw, it was only to confuse them. They thought we were some competition or something.”

“Like I could fire you,” Sips scoffed, thinking of not just the events from the past, but one from more recent… “You’re not an employee.”

“Hmmm, I dunno. You make a pretty good boss,” Sjin mischievously nipped at Sips’s collarbone.

Sips felt warm blood rush to his face.

“But yeah,” Sjin genuinely smiled, locking eyes with Sips. “I think we’re pretty good partners.”

“In Business, or Crime, or…”

“And Life,” Sjin affirmed. “I enjoy being with you, Sips.”

Sips closed his eyes, leaning in to kiss Sjin’s cheek. “I enjoy being with you.”  
Their lips met, a warm and welcome embrace. An feeling that hadn’t been had in almost a year, suppressed feelings no longer under cover. Sjin entwined his fingers in Sips’ dark hair as Sips wrapped an arm around Sjin’s thin torso blissfully.

 

“Let’s go home.”


End file.
